Convention Week

*OR*
The RNC: an insider’s articulately and professionally analyzed synopsis.
::snicker::
*OR*
What happens in St. Paul, gets bussed over and dropped off on the streets of Minneapolis
*OR*
McCain and Me- a subtle descent into my own moral depravity
*OR*
I survived the Republican National Convention and all I got was this lousy t-shirt
*OR*...


Monday:
::Kell is conspicuously absent:: Haha! Silly management- you didn’t realize that by allowing me my vacation you’d have to come in on labor day and confront the hordes of GOPs yourself. The key to happiness is to find pleasure in the small, simple aspects of life- like causing a 10 hour day of hell for those who professionally torment you on a regular basis.

Tuesday:
Plopped down in the middle of a war zone, I stroll into work (as usual) 15 minutes late to find the entire Normandy staff barricaded inside of the sales office. Every line on the in-house switchboard is lit up as our guests appear to have SERIOUS 6:45am needs that won’t wait. I reach for the phone when-

‘AHHHHHH! Don’t answer the phone!! Whatever you do, don’t answer the ph-ooone!!’

Now I try not to dislike an entire group of people based solely on principle so I did, in fact- answer the phone. And spent the next two hours of my morning being told in brusque voices to fetch this, find that, book a table here, and move an appointment there. All this before they even leave their rooms, I can’t imagine dealing with them in the flesh... My coworkers, smugly superior on the other side of their blue bridge- point fingers and laugh at my frantic expressions.

*Until* the first comes down to the lobby and plops a crisp $50 on my desk with a desire that I ‘buy myself something pretty with it, sugar’. Cash keeps on accumulating at the concierge desk all morning for the ‘sweet girl’ whom everyone has to pet as they make their ways to convention. (So hard for the money! Do do du DO) I’m dazzled by their megawatt smiles and embarrassingly enough, find myself giving the thumbs up repeatedly and sporting republican flair- including an ‘Al Franken-stein? Don’t let this happen to Minnesota!’ button.

Midday finds me running to a spa a few blocks away to ensure that all of the appointments I made earlier are still a go. A non-descript gentleman brushes past me with a murmured pleasantry as I enter the building. A flurry of excited activity greets me inside- as the gentleman happened to be... Al Franken. I glance down at the rows of buttons that line my jacket- specifically the one with his altered face on it. I walk out, sit down on a bench, and drop my head in my hands dejectedly. Thomas, my favorite downtown streetperson sits next to me and asks what’s wrong. I tell him all this money in my pockets makes me feel kind of dirty. He tells me a story. Thomas says the local homeless were offered all these fabulous things- good meals, a place to sleep, a few bucks... He never took them up on this offer because he had heard a rumor that accepting the handout meant getting stuck on a bus and being taken to less spotlighted areas of the city for the week. I walk back to the hotel with sobering thoughts.

Wednesday:
Republicans.

I refuse the credentials to the convention later that night. No thank you, I really don’t want to go. Eventually it gets to the point where, to prevent myself from being forcibly dragged to the rally, I have to barricade myself in the sales office.

Thursday:
Republicans.

Tim- our WASPy looking, immaculately dressed MOD takes up my former gauntlet. No one can understand why he wouldn’t want the hospitality passes to hear the convention speeches. We need more upstanding young people like you there, they say. Exasperated, Tim finally reaches his breaking point. Pocketing the pushers’ credentials- he says, ‘Ok! I’ll have to ask my boyfriend and see if he wants to go and if he does we’ll be there.’

<3 for Tim.

Got my first letter from Felicia today! And she's doin' good, doin' fine! :D

Friday:
One foot in front of the other... one foot in front of the other. I finally make it to my apartment after another looooong day.

::opens door::
::tosses purse in hallway::
::steps inside and closes door::
::on the way to taking one shoe off, drops dead of exhaustion::

I guess I didn’t hate *all* of it. Some of the festivities were kind of exciting and fun- once I cleared my head. Mad props to Governor Babcock (f) of Montana and delegate Priscilla Rakestraw from Delaware for being cool-as-hell guests. No props to Ms. Snappy-fingers, media manager for some obscure independent press or Sally-stick-up-my-ass junior assistant to the assistant to somebody from Nebraska. Though you know, I’d probably be a bitch too if I had to live in Nebraska...